


The "Vow" of silence

by Awsumatid



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Bets, Happy Ending, I love keys but hate locks, John POV, John is hopelessly smitten, Kissing, M/M, Not beta read- looking for a beta reader, Sherlock Understands, Writing practice, advice columnist death mentioned, electric kettle, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 05:21:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11867598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awsumatid/pseuds/Awsumatid
Summary: John is dared into non-verbal communication, and Sherlock joins the bet.





	The "Vow" of silence

**Author's Note:**

> To be clear, I tagged it as ACD because I based the layout of the house and their characters largely on my book, cause It's easier for me to visualize that, and to find the quote I based my scene from. Not beta read nor britpicked, I'd appreciate any constructive criticism, the good and the bad. I write what I know, if you find something that was somehow factually incorrect, please for the love of god and all that is sacred correct me!

I pulled my key out and pushed it into the lock. I never could get the hang of locks, and I just ended up getting my keys stuck. After I managed to unlock the door and free my keys I realised it had already been unlocked when I started. Damn.

Opening the door I caught eyes with my flatmate and nodded, wondering if he’d noticed yet. I hung my coat on the hook and made my way to the electric kettle. I eyed the water level and decided to add more water before flicking the switch and preparing two mugs. I temporarily allowed my mind to wander over to the thought of the parallel weak American tea and weak British coffee. Well then I noticed the blue light flick off in my peripheral vision, and I hurried to pick up the kettle before the water cooled.

Beads of condensation dotted the upper lip of Sherlock’s mug as I silently placed it by him. As I reached my own mug I tried to brush off a bit of flea dirt from my finger. Better wash my hands, then.

I sat in my chair, holding my mug in my recently toweled-off hands and casually crossed my feet. Sherlock was staring at me, so I returned his gaze.

“You haven’t said a word” he stated, as if trying to goad me into a response.

My only response was a steady nod of the head. He seemed lost in thought before replying, “Was it something I’ve done?”

A smile greeted my features and I shook my head indicating he’d done nothing to particularly garner my anger.

“You had a blind patient today, I see.”

I arched my eyebrow, urging him to continue.

“Noticing your frustration with the lock this afternoon I’d say you’ve been irritable all day, causing poor bedside manner towards your blind, deaf patient. A nurse must have noticed and chastised you”

I smiled at him, swelling with pride.

“Someone dared you to make a vow of silence. Of course you accepted, as you always do.”

I nodded, hoping a smile could convey the praise my words normally would. I was impressed, honestly. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, he always reads me like an open book, but it never ceases to amaze me. And of course, he sensed that too.

“By the way, since you are good enough to chronicle a few of my ‘adventures’, you may be interested in this,” He threw a newspaper into my lap which was open to the advice column. “Read it aloud.”

I scoffed. ‘Did you not just observe my vow of silence’ tried to pull itself from my lips, but I held my tongue. I shook my head and began to read it to myself, although not missing his slight pout.

I read the article about a youth who claimed to be in love with two boys and could not discern which she fancied most. I agreed with the advice given but did not understand why the article could be of particular importance. Looking up from the paper hoping to convey my question I saw Sherlock tip salt into his mouth straight from the shaker. I lowered my eyebrows in a mock-scolding expression before rolling my eyes.

“I can see you are wondering why this article is of interest to me”

This time my nod was skewed slightly forward, and he chuckled at my impatient expression.

“The reason being, the columnist has been murdered.”

It was at this point that I started to become annoyed with my incapability to communicate in the desired way.

“I took a vow of silence once, too.”

I cocked my head to the side and leaned in. ‘Bet that didn’t last long’

“It started while I was still living with mummy.” He gestured, as if his words were smoke billowing up and collecting around the ceiling. I absently covered my mouth with the hand on my chin, and I could feel how my breath was hot from the tea.

“I didn’t think it was important to mention to my mother _why_ I decided to put my frogs in the napkin drawer, because it seemed obvious at the time. Apparently it wasn’t, because when my mother had guests, she wasn’t too happy. She opened the bottom drawer of the dining room bureau to be met with 30 frogs flying in all matter of directions.

“She screamed like Mrs. Hudson might, crushed a few under her heal, and let the others escape. She called me down from my room where I was taking notes and I came down into the dining room, horrified. She made me clean up their corpses, and I started to consider my options of rebellion.

“She’d set the table and called me down to dinner. I pushed the food around my plate in silence while she talked to her guests about my accomplishments. She’d urged me to talk and instead of replying ‘no’, I stayed silent for 15 days.”

’15 day’s huh?’ I had to bite my lip from saying it out loud.

“I see you’re finding this challenge rather difficult.”

I covered my face in my hands and nodded. Damn me and my bets.

“Oh! You made a bet out of this! Can I bet against you?”

I glared at him and crossed my arms.

“50 quid says you don’t make it a full day”

I gave him a look that I hoped conveyed a sentiment of ‘You’re on’

He pulled out 50 quid and threw it on the rug between us. I got up to fetch my wallet from my coat pocket, and slapped my own 50 quid on top of his. He nodded at me and I nodded back.

“You know, it seems usually if someone starts communicating in a different way, the other person seems to mimic them. Like right now.”

I’d have to admit he was being a bit less talkative than he would have otherwise been, or I really didn’t, If I wanted that 50 quid.

He picked up the papers and started casually reading them. I picked up my book and resumed from my dog-eared page, pausing to sniff the page, just because I could, and I liked it. We settled into companionable silence, or so I thought.

While thoroughly immersed into the story of the great American frontier, I hadn’t noticed Holmes get up. I hadn’t noticed him push his chair close to mine. I hadn’t noticed how close we were until I adjusted my reading position and realised my book was resting on his lap instead of mine.

I looked up at him and somewhat surprisingly he looked up at me. Damn. My weakness. He smiled in that way that made my knees go weak the first time I saw it, cause damn, how’d I get so lucky?

I closed my book and let it slide to the floor to greet our pot. His elbows were on my knees now. If I were to lie I’d say I wasn’t lost in his eyes at that moment. I leaned closer to him, and of course, of course he did too.

Our lips met in that sweet, slow way that takes one’s breath away, every time. My hand found its way to his neck, pulling him in, and I could feel a pressure on the back of mine indicating him doing the same. But I didn’t hear it, my ears were buzzing with excitement. I wrapped my other arm around his lower back, like I didn’t want to lose him. He threw his arm over my back in a way that his hand met just below my shoulder. I sighed into the kiss.

It was always a give-and-take sort of thing with us, always a dialogue, even without words. I felt this longing for him, the kind that never went away, but made me glow when I had him in my arms.

Our lips parted and our foreheads rested together, and I wanted to say something. I wanted to convey to him how much I felt. But of course, he knew. We kissed again. and again, and a third, longer kiss that I can remember so clearly, and every time I reflect upon it I wonder if that’s what it’s like in his ‘mind palace’. I wondered if I’m in his head like he’s always in mine.

“Oh don’t be silly, John, you have your own wing” he said, before launching in to kiss me with such force that I was pressed against the back of my chair.

He started pulling at my jumper, and I was quite excited for that. I pulled the jumper over my head and started unfastening any button I could find on his person. Abruptly, He stood up.

“John! That’s it! You’re Brilliant!” He raced over to the coat hook and slipped into it, obviously having discovered something of value to his investigation from our kiss.

I sighed. “You tease.” But I bit my tongue too late. He raced over to the rug and pocketed the 100 quid, then raced down the stairs before I could properly get dressed and follow him.

I was flattered, though, to find him waiting for me in the cab.


End file.
